


Anything Goes

by Politzania



Series: Just One of those Things [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Caretaking, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild D/s, Mild Smut, Oral Sex, Spanking, flirtation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5841865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Tony are still feeling each other out (so to speak) and dealing with their checkered pasts.   Set after the events of  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5211167?view_full_work=true"> A Quiet Spree</a> and more a collection of vignettes than anything with an actual plot.  Some angst/emotional turmoil, but it all works out.   Eventual smut (last chapter).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As James woke, he was a little disoriented. Sunlight was streaming into the room from the wrong angle, the bed was large and soft and.... oh. Apparently his subconscious was one step ahead of him; another body in bed was not a threat - was instead, welcome. Quite welcome. 

Tony looked younger in his sleep, somehow. Perhaps it was because his mind wasn’t running hell bent for leather, as it appeared to be doing during every waking moment. James resisted the desire to run his fingers through Tony’s sleep tousled hair, or kiss him awake. The man needed as much sleep as he could get ... and then breakfast in bed. 

Unfortunately the penthouse kitchen wasn’t stocked with breakfast items; not much other than frozen dinners and condiments in the icebox, the pantry was pretty bare, and the coffeemaker looked much too complicated to even attempt. So after a quick trip to the can, he pulled on his pants and shirt from the previous night and took the elevator down to the common area. 

And of course Steve was there, with his usual gigantic bowl of some healthy-looking cereal. He’d apparently already run his morning half-marathon, as his hair was still damp from a shower. James suddenly regretted only having washed up briefly in the sink.

“Didn’t expect to see you up this early.” He caught the mischievous glint in Steve’s eye, and wasn’t quite sure what to think. Not feeling up to actual conversation before coffee, he nodded and mumbled a greeting. Bless Steve’s buttons, there was a full pot already in place. And he didn’t even drink the stuff. 

Once he had some java in his system, he felt a bit more human. “Thought I’d rustle up some breakfast - the kitchen upstairs was pretty bare.” He went in search of yet another modern marvel - frozen waffles. He hoped the toaster would be cooperative; he wasn’t in the mood for a half-burned or far-flung breakfast. He still couldn’t believe they’d named the damned thing. 

“Huh.” He recognized that grunt - it meant Steve had been rolling something around in his mind and the pieces had finally fit together. 

“What was that for, Steve?” 

“I just remembered that weekend R&R we had in Edinburgh, late in ‘43. You disappeared after we spent the evening at the pub, and didn’t show up til next morning. We all figured you found a bonnie lassie to keep you warm that night. But it was one of the RAF boys, instead... wasn’t it? That gunner.... what was his name?” 

“Ian.” He remembered soft brown curls, and softer lips. A brave and gallant boy, now lost to the ages; like so many others they had known. He knew about Peggy, but hadn’t yet been brave enough to ask after any of the Commandos... or his own sisters. 

He selected, washed and cut up some fresh fruit, plated the waffles and added liberal amounts of both butter and syrup before covering them with another plate. As he poured the majority of the coffeepot into an insulated carafe, he asked, “What did you mean ‘be careful with him’, Steve?”, figuring his pal would understand the apparent non-sequitur. 

“I.. um.... assume ... you saw the scars on Stark’s chest?” Steve actually blushed a little, and James realized that he was still trying to wrap his mind around him and Tony getting together. While he’d been relatively certain that Steve would understand, that it wouldn’t change their friendship, it had still been daunting. Especially considering the awkward circumstance in which he’d discovered that his childhood friend liked fellas as well as (truthfully, a bit more than) dames. 

“Yes.... what the hell caused them, Steve? How’d he make it through?” 

“Not my story to tell, Buck. But it’s a good place to start. Another bit of advice - don’t mention Howard unless Tony brings him up first. Apparently he wasn’t much of a father.” 

That was something he knew a bit about himself. “Thanks.” 

“So - what about telling the rest of the team about you two? Well, Nat probably already knows, even tho she’s halfway around the world at the moment.” Steve had a point; Romanova was the most observant of the bunch. But he wasn’t even sure what was happening between him and Tony, much less how to explain it to people he barely knew. 

“Uh... better leave that to Tony.” They were his teammates after all. Although he had the impression Tony didn’t discuss things like that very well. He knew he was lousy at it himself. 

“Fair enough. You’d better be on your way before the waffles get any colder.” Steve clapped him on the back as he went to rinse his bowl and put it in the dishwasher. 

\-----------------------

Tony supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to wake up alone. The penthouse was eerily silent, and once upon a time he would have been relieved; but not now. He’d hoped it had meant something... but at least it been nice while it lasted. Oh, it would be potentially awkward for awhile, but he knew how to put on a good face. But before he could really get down to feeling sorry for himself, he heard the elevator doors open. 

“Time to rise and shine, boss. Brought you some...” James breezed into the room carrying a tray, then stopped short. “Tony, are you okay?” 

“You were gone when I woke up, and I thought ...” he gestured towards the door and made a sad “whoosh” sound. James put the tray down, and slid into bed next to him. 

“No.. no.. I wanted to get breakfast for you and the cupboards are bare up here... I honestly didn’t mean to be gone long.... I’m sorry, I should have left a note or something.” As he rambled, James had wrapped him in his arms, holding him close, comforting him. “I’m done with the running and hiding. I promise.” 

Tony gave a huge sigh, partly in relief, and partly in realization that yes, he apparently still had massive abandonment issues resting on a hair trigger. Maybe caffeine would make things seem better. “Please tell me there’s coffee in that carafe over there.” 

He both heard and felt James’ low laugh. “I figured that was a priority. How do you take it?” 

“Like you, sunshine - tall, dark, hot and sweet.” James both blushed and rolled his eyes as he fixed a mug for Tony. He was only about halfway through his first cup before James had uncovered the plate full of waffles. The heady scent of butter and maple syrup wafted into the air. 

“I see you found the good stuff - worth the trip to Vermont. Hope you like it.” 

“This is for both of us, boss.” James cut into the waffles, spearing a piece with a fork. He made as if to hand the utensil over, then instead offered the bite of waffle itself. 

“Yeah - I’m good with the coffee. Don’t normally eat breakfast. Go right ahead.” He wasn’t quite sure exactly what was going on; afraid he was reading too much into the situation. 

James then arched an eyebrow, replying, “Take it - I’m pretty sure you worked up an appetite last night.” So he accepted the proffered morsel, which was actually pretty delicious. After several more shared bites of waffle, James moved on to the fruit bowl. 

“Who told you I’m a sucker for blueberries?” As James continued to proffer various fruit bits (some of which he didn’t even recognize) Tony commented, “Never thought a dom/sub scene would be so nutritious.” 

“It’s... it’s not like that.” James went still, then folded into himself. 

Tony mentally cursed his flippant remark; he had a knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Trying to mitigate the damage, he gently asked, “Can you tell me what it is like?” He remembered answering similar questions himself during his (brief) stint in therapy, and it had helped, a little. 

“It’s just... it’s not a sex thing, not really. I wanna take care of my friends; watch out for ‘em. Like I used to do for Steve, back then. Feels good to help out, be useful.” There was a long pause. “They took advantage of that, Tony.” James said quietly. 

Again, he had no doubt of who “they” were, and it made him sick. He slid his hand slowly across the blankets, toward the other man. “James, may I...?” 

James took his hand, held it for a moment, then shifted to lay his head in Tony’s lap. He then moved Tony’s hand on to the back of his head. He took the hint and started stroking James’ hair. 

Rogers had once described the old Bucky as “50% loyalty and 50% sass”; and Tony realized he’d just been given a privileged, precious insight into that steadfast loyalty. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that, James. I’m sorry I said something so thoughtless.”


	2. Chapter 2

James had been shocked at the stricken look on Tony’s face when he came back to the bedroom, not realizing that his silent disappearance from the bed would be so misinterpreted. Had Miss Potts abandoned Tony in the same way, slipping away one morning? And just when they were getting comfortable with each other again, he was blindsided by Tony’s casual remark. 

Not that he blamed Tony; after all, he’d alluded to that kind of dynamic the night before. He struggled to explain his bone-deep need to protect and provide for the people he cares about, and how it had been twisted, perverted by his captors. But words failed him when memories and emotion became too strong, and all he could do was reach out for comfort. 

He had been drifting for who knows how long, focused only on the hand gently carding through his hair, when Tony finally shifted, saying apologetically, “Hey, James, I have some meetings I have to attend today. I really need to get ready. You going to be okay?” 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” He was getting better at bouncing back from these kinds of setbacks, and the last thing he wanted to do was to cause any problems. Tony stole a kiss before he sauntered to the bathroom, fully aware that James was watching every movement. 

“You’re a goddamned tease, Boss!” he called after the retreating form, as much to indicate his recovery as to express his appreciation. Of course, Tony then struck a comically seductive pose around the doorframe. 

“Oh but I please after I tease, don’t I, sunshine? Though in this case it won’t be for several hours, sorry to say.” While Tony showered, he distracted himself by taking the breakfast tray to the kitchen, putting the leftovers into the refrigerator, and washing the dirty dishes in the sink, rubber glove on his metal hand. 

James then went into the massive closet (nearly the size of his and Steve’s first apartment, back in the day) and selected a couple of outfits for Tony to choose from. He’d always had a feel for color and fabrics, though the dizzying number of suits, ties and shirts to choose from was a challenge. He was pleased when Tony pointed to the charcoal grey suit, the burgundy shirt and black striped tie. 

“Sniper, masseur, and personal stylist? You are a man of many talents, James.” 

“I’m just getting started. Ask Steve what I can do with a handful of wilted vegetables, pan drippings and stale bread.” 

“That sounds... revolting. If you want to try out your talents in the kitchen, ask JARVIS to order in whatever ingredients you need.” 

“Only if you promise to eat what I cook, Boss.” James had been appalled to learn just how seldom Tony actually ate real food, relying instead on smoothies and protein bars. And too damn much coffee. 

“It’s a deal, my dear. How do I look?” As Tony slowly turned around, James wolf-whistled. “Well, I gotta get going. I’ll send you a quick text to let you know if I’ll be done in time for dinner.” He paused oddly for a moment, then leaned in for a quick kiss. “See ya, sunshine.” 

\---------------

It had been right there, on the tip of his tongue. To be honest, it scared him how easy it would have been to let those couple of words tumble out, along with his heart. But it was too damned soon. And it wasn’t as if James didn’t have a shit-ton of issues of his own to work on; it was hardly fair to throw this at him as well. Get your head in the game, Stark, Tony thought, and took the elevator down from the penthouse into the lion’s den. 

The first set of meetings actually went quite well. Tony had gotten what was for him a more than adequate amount of sleep, and having something besides just coffee in his system meant that he could be actively present during each session; neither hyper-focused on one specific element of the presentation nor distracted by each and every little thing going on in the room. The R&D teams were hitting on all cylinders and he was genuinely excited to see the results of their work. 

He took a few minutes after the last R&D session to send James a quick text: _Feeling like an actual human being today... thanks!_ And he did, for the first time in who knows how long. He spent what should have been his lunchtime writing up summaries of the sessions to present at the board meeting. He hated board meetings, always had... and this one would be even worse because of Pepper. 

Not that she wasn’t doing an awesome job as CEO; it’s as if she were born to the job. And she would be professional throughout the meeting, he was sure. It’s just that it would be the first time he’d see her in person since the breakup. They had texted and talked, mostly for business related reasons. But there was that one video chat, per her request, presumably so she could see for herself that he wasn’t falling apart. But he’d always known how to put on a good front, even with the people who knew him best. 

He still loved her, and was pretty sure he always would, in some way, shape or form. But he couldn’t give up what made him complete and tore her apart. He had tried - blowing up the suits, finally getting the surgery - but apparently just being a genius billionaire philanthropist wasn’t enough for him. He needed the armor. He needed to be Iron Man. 

“Tony.” And there she was, wearing armor of her own - an immaculate suit and those killer heels. He never could decide if she looked better in black or white, and today was the perfect balance of the two. He stood up as she closed the distance between them. 

“Pepper.” He hoped his smile looked more natural than it felt. 

“Good to see you again. Shall we?” She gestured towards the board room doors. 

The Research and Development update was smack dab in the middle of the agenda. He was still doing a better job of paying attention than usual, both before and after his turn in the hot seat, but he found himself distracted by Pepper. Specifically, by something she was wearing: a stunning pendant. The gemstone matched her eyes and was placed in an Art Deco setting (platinum, if he had to make a guess). It suited her; the ornate fragility of the setting disguising its strength and resiliency. 

He continued to jot down notes as the meeting came to a close. He caught up to Pepper in the hall outside. “Everything seems to be shipshape and Bristol fashion here at Stark Industries thanks to the world’s best CEO.” 

“Nautical metaphors, Tony? Sounds like you’ve been reading Master and Commander again.” 

“Aye, aye, captain. And speaking of the sea, that’s not the Heart of the Ocean you’ve got there, is it?” he replied, gesturing to the pendant. 

“No, it was a gift - it’s my birthstone.” She reached up, gently wrapping her fingers around it, and blushed slightly. 

“Well, it looks lovely on you. And you look lovely wearing it, of course. So, are you jetting back to the West Coast tonight, or can I take you out for a drink and maybe dinner?” The offer slipped out before he remembered his promise to James. 

“I’m afraid I already made plans, Tony.” She blushed a bit more, and it was if the shrapnel was right back inside him, instead of part of the necklace she no longer wore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes - the patented Tony Stark Angst and Self-Loathing is firmly in play, even more so in the next chapter.
> 
> And for the pendant - I imagine something like [ this](http://www.rubylane.com/item/746504-25x20caratx20aquax20marinex20pendant/Art-Deco-25-Carat-Aquamarine-Diamond) or [ this](https://www.kalmarantiques.com.au/product/18ct-platinum-art-deco-aquamarine-pendant/).


	3. Chapter 3

James had lost track of time after finding _Bradbury Stories: 100 of His Most Celebrated Tales_ on the bookshelf. The stew was still bubbling away nicely, and the lights in the penthouse had apparently come on automatically, as he hadn’t even noticed it was after sunset. 

He checked his phone, but the only text from Tony was the one he’d sent several hours ago, about feeling like “an actual human being”. He’d sent back a thumbs up, not wanting to be too much of a distraction. But he’d expected to get an update from Tony by now. 

“JARVIS, is Tony still in his meetings?” 

“No, Sergeant, the last meeting ended about an hour ago. Sir is in his workshop.” 

“Oh... okay. Thanks, JARVIS.” He was a little disappointed, but something must have come out of one of the sessions that spurred Tony’s creative mind. Stew was usually better the second day, anyways. But the AI continued. 

“Sir does not appear to be working on any specific project at the moment, and opted to work through his scheduled lunch break.” James caught what JARVIS was hinting at, and smiled. People may say that machines can’t have opinions or emotions, but they’d never met Tony Stark’s creations. 

“Message received loud and clear.” He filled a couple of bowls with stew, sliced up a baguette, and took the express elevator down to Tony’s workshop. He opened the door quietly and there was Tony, jacket and tie discarded, looking up at a holographic image of a diamond ring. Surrounded with light blue stones, it reminded James of the arc reactor in the Iron Man suit. 

Despite JARVIS’ suggestion, James realized he was intruding. Stepping back, he caught Dum-E’s attention, who beeped and threw a paper wad in an invitation to play catch. It hit James in the forehead, bouncing and barely missing one of the stew bowls. 

By the time he looked back up, the image of the ring was gone, replaced with blueprints for who knew what, and Tony had turned toward him with a curt “What are you doing down here, James?” That stung a little. 

“JARVIS said you came down here after your meetings. Thought I’d see if you still wanted any dinner. I made stew - the good stuff, not the dishwater soup I described earlier.” 

“Huh... well ... would you put it over there? I’ll get to it later.” and he turned back to the diagrams floating in midair. 

“Tony, what’s going on?” It came out a little sharper than he had intended, but James was both concerned and a little irritated. 

“Something came up during the meetings and I want to strike while the iron is hot. You don’t need to stick around.” His response was equally sharp, and dismissive as well, but there was an odd look on Tony’s face, as if he wanted to be called out on what he was saying. So James reached out and took him firmly by the shoulders.

“Look me in the eye, Tony, and tell me you’re okay, and I’ll go.” For a split-second, James was afraid he was going to call his bluff, but then he felt Tony’s shoulders sag slightly.

“I saw Pepper today.” 

“Did she say or do something.... upsetting?” 

“No... well, not intentionally. You see, she was wearing this pendant. Gorgeous, but not like anything she’d usually wear. She told me it was a gift, and blushed when she said it.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Tony said, lips held tightly. “She’s moved on.” 

“And you haven’t,” James replied, with a sinking feeling. Tony still loved Pepper, still wanted to be with her. Perhaps he’d been just a welcome distraction. 

But then Tony dropped his forehead to James’ chest, saying quietly, “I’m trying... got a damn good reason to. But it’s hard.” James pulled Tony close, embracing him. 

“I didn’t mean to snoop, but I saw the hologram of the ring. It was going to be for her, wasn’t it?” 

Tony started a bit, then nodded, head still bowed against James’ chest. “I was finally getting it right. No more eight foot rabbits. No more boxes of strawberries. I remembered her birthday, her birthstone, even. But it wasn’t enough. She needed me to be someone I wasn’t and could never be.” 

“I know a little about that, Boss.” James said, thinking of the Bucky Steve still hoped for. 

“I suppose you do, sunshine.” Tony finally looked back up at James, and his eyes were wet. “Food’s getting cold, again.” 

“So it is.” 

\-----------------

After a late dinner in the workshop, they spent the night in one of the guest suites; Tony had admitted that the penthouse held too many memories for him to deal with at the moment and James refused to spent another night on the couch. There was some slow, lazy making out, but things progressed no further by mutual agreement. 

Tony awoke, and when he stretched out, paper crinkled under his hand. It was a note, written in shaky block letters: BAD DREAM - GOTTA GO. 

“JARVIS”, he asked, “Where is James?” 

“Sergeant Barnes is not in the tower, Sir.” He suppressed a stab of panic.

“Where is he? What happened?” 

“At approximately 5:15 am, Sergeant Barnes awoke, got dressed and borrowed Captain Rogers’ motorcycle. I traced the vehicle to Rockaway Point. It has not moved in the past hour.” 

“Prep the suit, J.” 

“Shall I notify Captain Rogers? He is out on a run, but has his phone with him.” 

“Not yet.” Tony was in the air just a few minutes later, homing in on the coordinates JARVIS had provided. He landed on the edge of the beach, putting the suit on sentry duty as he walked towards the bike, moving slowly, but with hands clearly in sight. 

James was sitting next to the back wheel, arms around knees with his head bowed down against his forearms, his metal fist clenching and releasing, over and over. Tony stopped a few feet away and hunkered down.

“James, I got your note. Thank you.” There was silence for a moment. 

“Had to be somewhere out in the open for awhile. Somewhere I couldn’t hurt anyone. I was gonna go out to the roof, but it was too high up. So I came here. ” 

“You knew Cap’s bike was bugged, didn’t you? So JARVIS would know where you were?” 

James raised his head, eyes sunken and hollow, but with the barest hint of a smile. “Toldja I was done running and hiding. Well, at least the hiding part. Prob’ly gonna run again, just so’s ya know.” 

“Okay - and I’ll probably hide in the workshop again; it’s kind of what I do. But I’ll come after you if you come after me, deal?” 

“Sure, Boss.” 

“Good boy,” Tony replied. James inhaled sharply and his eyes slightly widened. 

“Say it again... please.” It was barely a whisper, but Tony heard, and understood. He sat next to James and put his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. 

“You did good, sunshine. You left a note, you went somewhere safe, and made sure we could come and find you.” He kissed James on the temple. “Proud of you.” James went boneless against him for a moment, then flinched. 

“What about Steve?” 

“What about him? He was out on a run. If we get a move on, we can probably beat him back. Unless you want to stop somewhere for breakfast?” James relaxed against him again, presumably thankful that Rogers was unaware that he’d gone AWOL. 

“I’d rather head on home.” Tony’s heart lifted to hear James call the Tower “home”. 

“Me too. Hey - if there’s an extra helmet, how about I ride with you and JARVIS can fly the suit back?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: brief reference to suicidal thoughts and minor spoiler for the 1973 film _The Sting_ (which carries over to next chapter) .

Of course Steve had an extra helmet in the saddlebag. Boy Scouts couldn’t be more prepared than he usually was. But James was still feeling very unsettled. It wasn’t so much the dream, it was that he barely remembered driving to the park in the first place. He hated that he still lost control like that occasionally, as if he were only a passenger in his own body. 

James asked Tony if he’d drive back, claiming unfamiliarity with the area, but he demurred, saying, “I’m a four wheel guy, not two. The helmets have comm units, so I’ll just give you directions.” So they saddled up, and headed back into the city. 

As they passed the concrete columns holding up the overpasses, it flashed through his mind how easy it would be to tilt the handlebars a bit too far in their direction. Not that he’d actually do it, especially with a passenger, but the intrusive thought was still there. Same reason he’d avoided going up on the roof of the Tower this morning - too easy to jump off. 

“You’re awfully quiet there, sunshine. Doing okay?” So apparently Tony was a mindreader on top of everything else. 

“Just... been a long day already.” 

“Think you’ll be up for team dinner and movie night? The Spy Kids are supposed to be back from a mission; Barton will probably stop by if he knows there’s food up for grabs.” James had met him not long after first coming to to the Tower. According to Steve, he’d been briefly mind-controlled by a demigod from another world a couple of years ago. Steve had suggested maybe they could talk sometime, but it didn’t seem like the thing to just bring up out of the blue. 

He shrugged in reply. “Maybe.” 

And Tony pulled in a little closer, resting his head on James’ back. “No pressure.” 

It wasn’t long before they were pulling into the garage. The suit had paced them and had just touched down on the rooftop gantry. As they got into the elevator, he pushed the button for his and Steve’s floor. Tony looked a little disappointed, but didn’t say a word. 

James changed into a t shirt and shorts and headed for the gym. After a dozen or more circuits of the machines, he got on the treadmill and ran hard and long waiting for the jittery feeling to be pushed aside by physical exhaustion. After a quick shower and a nap, he felt fit to join the others on the common floor. 

Banner was already starting to work on dinner. James felt comfortable around this quiet, gentle man; he too understood what it mean to have unknowingly wreaked havoc and taken lives. They hadn’t talked much about it, but perhaps they didn’t need to. 

“Hey - anything I can do to help?” he offered. Banner pushed a pile of onions and green peppers his direction. 

“Would you mind prepping these for the sauce?” Tomatoes were already bubbling on the stove. Looked like it was going to be pasta night. By the time Barton wandered in, he’d already chopped up the peppers and was working his way through dicing the onions. 

“Huh - looks like your knife skills translate nicely to the culinary world, Barnes.” Banner kicked Barton in the ankle. “What?” 

“Make yourself useful, Clint. Make a couple dozen meatballs. I hear you’ve got a secret recipe.” 

“That I do... so don’t peek!” He rummaged in the cupboard for spices and herbs, then pulled out several pounds of ground meat from the refrigerator. “Who else are we expecting for dinner besides us?” 

“Steve’s gone out to get dessert from that Italian bakery he likes - should be back soon. Who knows about Tony.” 

“I’ll go get him, when it’s time,” James volunteered. Banner simply nodded, while Barton raised an eyebrow. 

“Good luck with that. He gets buried in projects and we don’t see him for days.” 

\--------------------

Tony always had a backlog of projects. Since it had seemed that James wanted some time to himself (or to hang out with Steve), he went down to the workshop and tinkered for the better part of the day. Dum-E presented him with a decent-tasting smoothie at some point, so he figured he was good for the next several hours. 

“Hey Tony, didn’tcha say something about team dinner and a movie tonight?” And there was James, looking better than he had that morning. 

“Huh....didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” He debated on asking what James had been up to, but thought that might be a bit too mother-henning. “I’ll be there in a few.” 

“I’ll wait - Dum-E and I can play catch for a bit.” So Tony hit the shower & pulled on some clean clothes - jeans and one of his favorite band t-shirts. As they exited the workshop, James leaned in and nuzzled his neck. “You smell awful good, sweetheart.” 

“Back atcha, darlin’. So... how do we want to do this?” At James’ quizzical look, he continued. “I mean, Cap knows about us already, but what about the others? Not that they would have a problem, I mean. Sure, Barton’ll probably crack a joke, but that’s him. Romanov will know as soon as either of us walks in the room, if she doesn’t already. And Bruce will just get all sappy.” He stopped, realizing that James was looking a bit anxious. “Or we can keep it under wraps for a little longer, if that would be easier.”

“Uh... maybe? I just... not that I don’t want everyone to know you’re my fella, but I don’t know the others that well yet?” And while the comment about “my fella” made Tony weak in the knees, he understood what James was trying to say.” 

“No worries, sunshine. We’ll play it cool for now.”

As they exited the elevator, Barton glanced over. “I’ll be damned, Barnes actually did it. What happened, Stark? Did he bribe you with his first born or a handjob or something?” 

“Clinton Francis Barton...” Rogers started, with a full on Captain America is Disappointed in You look on his face, but Tony interrupted. 

“Jealous, Legolas? First off, I’ve met your first born and he’s even more of a pain in the neck than you are, so that’s not happening. Second of all, considering your bowstring calluses vs my tender parts, thanks but no thanks on a handie. Thirdly, JARVIS piped the heavenly aroma of Bruce’s marinara sauce down to the workshop, which was all the incentive I needed to come up here.” Tony hoped his gift of gab was enough to confuse and defuse, and from Barton’s “what the hell just happened?” expression, he guessed that had been the case. 

Romanov, on the other hand, wore that all-too-familiar calculating expression. He hadn’t been joking when he told James that she would put two and two together faster than anyone here. But she also had a well-defined sense of discretion, so he wasn’t too worried. 

Tony snuck a look at James, who seemed a bit on edge, so he continued with the verbal shenanigans, only stopping his needling of Barton once dinner was actually being served. Someone (probably Cap) had actually set places at the dining table, and Tony finessed his way into sitting next to James. 

Contrary to popular opinion, Tony could do subtle; he only brushed hands with James when they passed the dishes around, and if he tucked his foot around James’ ankle for a little while, the tablecloth surely hid that from view. Plus sitting next to him made the chance of accidental eye-fucking nearly nil. 

“So, what’s on tap for movie night?” he asked, snagging another cannoli from the dessert plate. 

Banner replied, “Clint insists it’s his turn to choose, since he’s been away from the Tower for so long.” 

Barton nodded, mouth full of dessert. ”How about The Sting? Great period caper flick.” 

Rogers added, “That title sounds familiar...” and pulled out his little black book. “Yep, it’s right here on my list. Isn’t it set in the 1930’s?” 

“1936, if I remember correctly,” Barton replied. “Redford and Newman are the stars and they are a hell of a lot of fun. You guys’ll love it!” It had been awhile since Tony had seen the movie, but he remembered liking the story well enough, so he added his support. Romanov shrugged, and Banner said he was good with it, too. 

Once the kitchen and dining table were cleaned off, the team decamped to the home theater. Tony had a custom sectional sofa built - shaped in a gentle curve, it was big enough for the whole team and then some. Barton took his normal spot, perching on the back of the sofa at one end, while Romanov stretched out on the cushions below, feet dangling over the arm. Banner settled in near the middle, as did Rogers. Tony was partial to the other end of the sofa, as he often brought a StarkTab with him in order to multitask, and the arm of the sofa was just the right height to prop it up on. 

When James came in, he grabbed one of the throw pillows and sat on the floor in front of the sofa, between Rogers and Tony, saying that he’d put in some miles on the treadmill and wanted to stretch his legs out. 

“You sure, Buck? Plenty of room up here,” Steve said, a slight tone of concern in his voice. 

“Nah, Stevie. I’m good.” He glanced up at Tony as if he dared him to say something. Feeling a bit mischievous, he winked at James instead, and got a warm smile in return. And then the familiar strains of “The Entertainer” rolled out from the speakers as JARVIS started up the movie.

When Hooker rushed in to foil the stickup man at the beginning of the film, James chuckled. “Look familiar, punk?” 

“Yeah, but you’da been right there behind me, Buck.” Tony just grinned and waited for the scene to finish, just to see their reactions. “Wait a minute - it was all a con?” Rogers squawked. 

“Were you not paying attention when Barton said it was a caper film, Cap? Redford is a bit of a sneaky bastard in this film... he’s good at playing that role.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible minor trigger for emetophobes.

As the film progressed, James came to agree with Tony’s assessment of the lead character. Something about the actor seemed familiar, but he just couldn’t place it. He felt that disquieting sensation again, like an itch in his brain. By the time the FBI agent caught up with Hooker and browbeat him into deceiving his partner, James could barely sit still. He was beginning to regret asking Tony to keep things under wraps; he already missed his touch so much. 

James had been telling the truth about sitting on the floor to stretch out his legs, but there was something more. Something satisfying about choosing where to sit, and that choice being at Tony’s feet. It was difficult to reconcile these urges to yield trustingly to another’s desires with regaining his self-determination and independence. But his counselors kept telling him that determining his own wants and needs was an important part of his recovery. So here he sat. 

“Ugh - I’d forgotten all the damn carousel music. Heard enough of that growing up.” Barton piped up, only to have Steve shush him, totally caught up in the story. James remembered how much his pal loved film noirs and other movies like this, where the characters were all playing off one against the other. But he himself had seen too many real life examples of treachery and treason to get much enjoyment out of it now. 

When the undercover assassin was offed, James finally gave in to his longing for physical contact, and shifted so he was leaning against Tony’s legs. Tony pressed back, and when James glanced up, there was a look of concern on his face. He mouthed “You okay?” and James reluctantly nodded. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the others. He didn’t know what was causing his uneasiness, winding him up, but he thought he could hold out til the end of the movie. 

He was wrong. At the moment of betrayal, when Hooker is told he can go, everything clicked. Pierce. The actor playing Hooker looked like Pierce, when he first became the Soldier’s mission head, his primary handler. All the nervous energy that had been building in him suddenly boiled over in a flood of unwanted memories. 

“I... I’m not feeling well....” James stumbled to his feet and fled to the bathroom in the hallway. A few minutes later, he closed the lid and pushed the handle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He slid down to the floor, feeling the cool tile of the wall against his cheek. 

\--------------

Tony had noticed that James was getting more agitated as the film progressed, although he wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe the period setting reminded him of the olden days when he and Rogers were struggling to get by. By the time James oh-so-casually leaned on his legs (and it was nearly impossible not to reach over and run a hand through James’ hair), he could feel how twitchy he was. But he’d nodded when Tony checked in, and seemed to be following the plot just fine. 

So Tony was surprised when James suddenly bolted from the room, saying he didn’t feel well. Rogers startled and made a move to get up, but Tony was one step ahead of the good Captain, already triggering an fake alert on his StarkTab. “Sorry guys, I gotta follow up on this. Don’t wait on me to finish the film - you’re just at the best part!” 

He waited outside the bathroom door for a few moments, then softly knocked. “James, it’s Tony.” He wasn’t going to ask the obvious question, as James obviously wasn’t okay. A muffled “go ‘way” came through the door in reply. 

“Nope .... we’ve got an agreement, sunshine. We keep track of each other, remember? I just want to sit with you. I promise I won’t ask any questions or make a fuss or anything.” 

The door opened a crack, and he entered. James was sitting in one corner, pale and drained. Tony handed him a bottle of water he’d grabbed from the fridge on the way through, then sat on the floor nearby. He waited patiently, taking deep, calming breaths to set an example. 

“That guy... the actor playing Hooker. He reminded me of Pierce,” James said hoarsely. 

“Alexander Pierce? The former Secretary of the World Security Council?” He could see the resemblance, he supposed, but didn’t understand what James was getting at.

“He was my handler. He’s the one who gave the Soldier his missions for the last few decades. He’s the one who sent me to kill Steve.” The haunted look in James’ eyes nearly broke Tony’s heart. 

“Oh god, James... I had no idea - I swear... I knew that asshole turned out to be HYDRA, but... Jesus ... I was in California - the shitshow was over before I had any goddamned clue what was going on... ” he babbled, feeling more than a little ill himself. He’d been trying to respect James’ privacy and not pry into his past - and then this landmine pops up. 

“Fury shot Pierce. Natalia spit on his corpse. Said she would have pissed on it too, but there wasn’t time.” That was news to him - the official word on Pierce’s demise was as a casualty in the Triskelion collapse. Tony still hadn’t gotten the whole story of what went down in DC: not from Rogers, not from Romanov, and sure as hell not from Fury himself.

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, Buck... the movie’s over. Want me to fill you in?” Rogers was doing his best to sound casual and mostly succeeding. Tony stood, then offered a hand to James to help him up. He held James for a moment, then opened the door, and Rogers simply nodded as Tony slid by. 

Tony waited in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher and wiping down the counter, as the rest of the team said their goodnights. He was almost out of make-work tasks when Rogers entered the room. 

“I had no idea about Pierce, you gotta believe me, Cap. The only thing I had ever had JARVIS check James’ files for was info on his arm, and that was only after he asked me to take a look at it. I know what it’s like to have your whole life spread out for everyone to see.” 

Rogers sighed wearily. “You weren’t the only one in the dark. I didn’t know Pierce was Bucky's handler either, not til Nat pulled together a dossier afterwards.” He paused, and a pained, furious look crossed his face. “A bullet was too good for that bastard.” 

“No argument here.” 

“Anyways, Buck told me about this morning, too. Thanks for going after him. He seems to be doing better since you two got together.” 

“Well... I kinda like the guy, what can I say?” It was nice to have more proof that Rogers accepted his and James’ developing relationship. “Did he head back to your floor for the night?” 

“Nah, thought I’d get a little something sweet before hitting the sack.” James had snuck up behind Tony and wrapped an arm around his waist before nibbling behind his ear. Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled as well. 

“Okay, lovebirds - see you in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like I'm going to be editing the tags for the next chapter.... don't think we're gonna to squint anymore. :^)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the change in tags - there be (admittedly mild) smut and (even milder) dom/sub action ahead.

Once Steve left, James took a deep breath and pulled his beloved even closer. “I need ... need to be with you tonight, Tony.” He knew what he wanted to ask for, but not how to put it in words. 

“Your wish is my command, sunshine.” And with his response, Tony had given James the perfect opening. 

“I was thinking maybe it could be the other way around,” James replied, and before he could second-guess himself, sank to his knees and bowed his head. Tony crouched down and gently took his chin to look into James’ eyes, a concerned (and concerning) look on his face. 

“Hey now, what’s this all about? I thought you said....” 

“I know. And it was the truth, mostly. I just never believe that I could do this with anyone. Let go and trust they would take care of me.” 

“And you trust me to do that?” Tony sounded as if he’d been offered a precious gift. 

“Yes.” And he truly did trust Tony, with all his heart.

“You want to do whatever I tell you? Let me take care of you?” He simply nodded in reply. 

“Then go upstairs, strip to your boxers and wait for me in the bedroom.” Tony’s sudden crisp note of command sent shivers down James’ spine. 

“Yes, Boss.” He took the stairs, two or three at a time in excited anticipation. He undressed as requested, and waited as patiently as he could.

Tony joined him about fifteen minutes later and sat next to him on the bed. “All right, sunshine, gonna let you know it’s been awhile since I’ve done something like this. Since this is new for you, I want to take things real slow, make sure we’re both comfortable.” James realized Tony was a little nervous as well, but apparently had some experience, which helped calm his own apprehension. 

Tony continued. “I’m not going to do or have you do anything you don’t want. But in the heat of the moment, it can be tough to tell the difference between ‘Don’t stop’ and ‘Don’t. Stop.’ So we’re going to use the traffic light system. Ever heard of it?” 

“Nope, but it sounds straightforward. Red means stop, right?” 

“You got it - Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. ‘Yellow’ is if something’s uncomfortable, physical or otherwise and you need to slow down or pause. ‘Green’ means everything is just fine, feels good. Either of us can say our color at any time. You don’t have to wait to be asked. That work for you?” 

“Got it. Less talk, more action, Boss.” 

“Oh, is that how we’re starting this, with sass as foreplay? Just for that, lay face down on the bed and don’t move.” James did as he was told. He heard Tony undressing, then felt him straddle his waist. Tony’s strong hands started massaging his back. “Thought I’d finally return the favor.” 

Thorough and methodical, Tony worked his way over every inch of James’ back and neck. He was so gentle with the scars, tracing lightly over them with the tips of his fingers, but just this side of rough otherwise. All the tension melted out of his body, replaced by heightened sensitivity and arousal.

Tony bent low, his lips taking the place of his hands, trailing insistent kisses across James’ shoulder blades while he continued the massage. “Gonna make you feel so good tonight, sweetheart. Going to make you moan, and gasp and sweat.” Tony purred in his ear. James flinched and hissed slightly as Tony nipped at his neck, following it with a sigh of “Green.” 

He felt Tony chuckle. “Good boy... how should I reward my prize pupil? With more of this?” James thrilled to hear those words, and with each touch of Tony’s lips and teeth on his body, he arched into the contact, pleasure and a touch of pain an intoxicating mix. 

“More, Tony, please... ‘m all yours...” 

“Let’s try something different, then.” Tony reached up and grasped James’ left wrist; he’d tucked his hands under his head when he initially lay down. Tony gently pulled the hand and arm towards him, sliding it between James’ side and his own leg, pinning it in place. Of course James could free himself from the constraint in a moment, but that wasn’t the point. Tony was in control, so James let himself relax and give in to the experience. 

Tony did the same with his right arm, securing it as well. The change in his balance pushed James’ hips down further into the bed; combined with Tony’s own shifts in weight that had been rocking him against the mattress, James was achingly hard. 

“Color, dearest?” 

“Plenty green, Boss.” Tony’s hands moved lower, sliding along James’ flanks with a firm, confident touch. He shifted his body lower as well, repositioning himself astride James’ thighs and making his state of arousal crystal clear. After trailing a series of hot, wet kisses down James’ spine, Tony took both of James’ hands, placing them at his lower back with crossed wrists. He held them in place with one hand as his other hand tugged at James’ waistband. 

James froze as a memory of being in this same position -- held down over a metal table -- broke free, searing through his mind. R...r...red,” he stuttered. Instantly, Tony’s weight was gone and his hands were freed. James curled them underneath himself as he gasped for breath. He struggled to process a whirlwind of emotions, bitterly resenting the timing of the flashback.

“James, it’s okay. You’re all right. No one can hurt you here. You’re safe.” Tony’s calm, measured words brought him back to the here and now. “Good job speaking up, sunshine. We’ll set some limits for next time.” 

\-------------------------

Tony felt awful. He wanted to beg James’ forgiveness; but he knew that it just made things worse, feeling even more broken. He’d been on the receiving end of apologies from Pepper and Rhodey when they’d inadvertently set off one of his panic attacks and he recalled the chain reaction well. You can only punt “I’m sorry” back and forth so many times before it becomes absurdly meaningless. Instead, he asked, “Can I hold you for a little while?”

James nodded in response to the question, so Tony pulled him close, stroking his hair slowly. He felt James’ pulse slow and his breathing even out; eventually he relaxed to the point that Tony thought perhaps he’d fallen asleep. It had been a damned long day, and he’d only managed to make it worse. Maybe he was a fool to think that this relationship could work; he had too much baggage of his own to be good for anyone else. 

“Quit it,” James mumbled. “Whatever you’re thinkin’, knock it off.” 

“So you’re a mindreader now, too?” 

“Getting to be that way with you, darlin’.” James stretched, then took Tony’s hand in his, tracing his fingers over the lines in his palm, the calluses, the nicks and scars. James pressed a kiss to the inside of Tony’s wrist, then another, this time with tongue. He licked up the side of Tony’s thumb, taking it into his mouth with a devilish grin. 

“Lead me not into temptation, loverboy,” Tony said, retrieving his hand, but not before James’ talented tongue had revved him back up, just as he knew James had intended. 

“Kinda hopin’ you’d finish what you started, Boss.” There was a glint of challenge in James’ eye. Tony recognized the impulse to get back on the horse that threw you, as that was his own brand of stubbornness through and through. He just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to take James for that ride. 

“Remember when I said I wanted to take it slow? Let’s give that a try, again.” That earned Tony both an eyeroll and a huff of frustration. 

“Wish you were thinkin’ with your little head instead of your big one.” 

“I resent your use of the word ‘little’! Besides the big one is where all the creative fun comes from. Now come here and kiss me sweetly.” James could be very sweet when he wanted to be, and Tony responded in kind. Even as the kisses turned heated, Tony remained focused; and when James’ hands started to wander, Tony hummed a negative and repositioned them. 

“Keep that up and I’ll turn you over my knee,” he said unthinkingly. But instead of the negative reaction he feared, James’ pupils blew wide . 

“Oh, yes, Tony .... please!”, he begged, and ran his hand all the way up Tony’s inner thigh. Well, shit, he’d walked right into that. Spanking wasn’t really his thing, but he’d been told he was good at it. And James was obviously up for it, in more ways than one. Maybe taking things slow was overrated. 

“Then assume the position, my dear.” Almost literally as quick as a wink, James was laying across Tony’s lap - he’d even slipped out of his boxers, which let Tony feel just how hard James already was. He took a moment to enjoy the view before making contact. 

The first sharp slap took them both a bit by surprise; James hadn’t seen it coming and Tony hadn’t realized how turned on James’ response would make him. The breathy moan and thrust of James’ hips against his thigh was much hotter than Tony had imagined. He raised his hand for a second slap, making it just a bit harder. 

“Green, Tony.. so goddamned green...More, please... ” The third left a handprint, which despite James’ enthusiastic responses, was enough to nudge Tony right up to the edge of yellow. So he gently stroked the reddened flesh instead, rubbing out the sting. 

“That’s enough for now, sweetheart.”

\------------------------------

It wasn’t nearly enough, but Tony’s voice was just a bit shaky around the edges, and James realized he’d been giving him one hell of a mixed message. He could barely understand his own conflicting responses and desires; how could he expect more of his lover? He was being selfish, when all he truly wanted was to please Tony. 

“Yes, Boss,” James responded, waiting patiently.

“Come lay down here, next to me, dearest.” Tony said tenderly, stretching out on the bed. James followed, pressing close. “Maybe the third time will be the charm,” Tony murmured into his ear. James responded eagerly to Tony’s kisses and caresses, but left any escalations to him. He wanted to be good, truly he did, but his own nature made it damned near impossible. 

“Okay, sweetheart, I want you to follow my lead, and only do what I do.” Tony slid off his boxers, then arranged himself so they lay side by side in the same position as their first night together. But this time James would be allowed to touch, to taste, to return in kind whatever Tony did for him. 

James whined slightly as Tony took him in hand, the cool slickness of the lube in contrast to his own heated skin. There was a tap on his hip - Tony was passing over the bottle. He applied a liberal amount and took a firm hold of his beloved. He wasn’t sure how precisely he was to comply to Tony’s instructions, but decided to err on the side of caution to start with, matching stroke for stroke. 

Tony’s steady stream of commentary, filthy and tender at the same time somehow, seemed a good indicator of his approval. James’ responses were perhaps not as eloquent, but certainly as heartfelt. The pressure inside was building to a peak already, and the moment Tony’s hot, wet tongue licked a slow stripe up his shaft, James forced himself to mentally recite the entire team roster of the 1941 Brooklyn Dodgers as distraction. If he was supposed to follow the leader, than by god, he wouldn’t come until Tony did. 

James worked to give as good as he got, mirroring Tony’s use of lips, tongue and just the right touch of teeth. He couldn’t remember ever having done this before, giving and receiving head at the same time. Having to split his attention made the sensations even more exquisite, with the moans and gasps he wrung from Tony only pushing him further along. He needed more, needed to feel him even further inside than their current position allowed. 

James slid his hand under Tony’s hip, deftly lifting and twisting until he was under Tony. He pulled Tony’s hips down, opening wide to feel his length thrusting deep, so deep down his throat. Tony’s body rested atop his own, the weight grounding him, shutting out the world in the best way. 

But then Tony tapped his side and gasped “Yellow.” James let go, realizing in a flash that he’d been grasping too hard, leaving bruises in his eagerness. Tony rose to his hands and knees, panting heavily for a moment before speaking again. “Wasn’t quite expecting that.” Then, with unexpected tenderness, “Do you want me to stay here? Until we’re done?” 

“Yes, please,” James replied, not quite believing how patient, how understanding Tony was. He’d pushed the boundaries at every opportunity, and Tony kept reeling him back in, with kind words and gentle touches. 

“It won’t take me long, sunshine.... you’re so damn good at this...” And Tony sank down, engulfing James’ shaft once more. James guided Tony back in between his own lips, letting him set the tempo and depth. In scarcely any time at all, Tony’s moans grew more insistent, more urgent as his hips stuttered and he plunged deep as he came. James’ climax followed almost immediately, so powerful that he nearly whited out for a moment. 

James may have whimpered a little when he felt Tony withdraw and move away, only to return right way up again, burrowing between his lax arms to nestle against him. He nuzzled the back of Tony’s neck, feeling his happy sigh. “Mmmm.. so what’s your color, sunshine?” 

“Emerald City, all the way. How about you, Boss?” 

“Central Park in the springtime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a couple more vignettes/ one-shots potentially in mind for this 'verse - if so, they'll be added as part of the series. Kudos and comments make my day! 
> 
> Come say hi over on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/poliz-writes) sometime!


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